


Nameless

by the_painless_moustache



Series: Nameless [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Star Trek
Genre: Anal, Bottom John, Fingering, M/M, PWP, Plot What Plot, Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Sherlock's got a terribly dirty mouth, Top Sherlock, dubcon, yes I used spit I'm sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-11
Updated: 2014-02-11
Packaged: 2018-01-11 23:09:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1179046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_painless_moustache/pseuds/the_painless_moustache
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He shouldn’t be doing this. He  <i>really</i> shouldn’t be doing this.<br/>***<br/>AU in which John Watson works for Pike and is sent to see a certain prisoner. Things don't go according to plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nameless

**Author's Note:**

> So I was talking to [this lovely lady](http://willtherealpleasestandup.tumblr.com/) and she got me thinking about Khan/Sherlock and John smut, in which I was severely lacking.  
> Also, if you're looking for appearances you can reference [this picture](http://archiaart.tumblr.com/post/52518548688/john-harrison-john-watson-aka-khhn-swapping) by [archiaart](http://archiaart.tumblr.com/) because that's what I picture them to look like (though not in positioning, obviously)  
> As always, let me know of any errors you notice! You can do so on here or on my [tumblr](http://itsarugsbust.tumblr.com/). It's highly appreciated :)  
> NOW A SERIES, LOOK AT THE END FOR A LINK TO PART TWO

 He shouldn’t be doing this. He _really_ shouldn’t be doing this.

 The man behind him growls and pulls on his ear with his teeth. “Stop thinking. It’s annoying.”

 John huffs, hands trying to get a grip on the smooth wall. “Sir…”

 “And what did Pike send you for, then?” the man wonders. “Supplies? Paperwork? Were you just _checking on me?_ ” He bites into John’s neck

 John’s surprised when a moan breaks from his throat. He’s even more surprised when the man slams him into the wall and presses a very obvious erection into his arse. One of his hands slips and soon his cheek is pressed into cool metal while this madman ruts against him. Surely it wasn’t anything good that he was whimpering, either.

 “I’m going to fuck you.” the man growls. “Here, against this wall. You’ll like that, won’t you? Just listen to you, practically begging for it.”

 And he is. John suddenly very desperately wants this man—whose name he’s not even sure about—to fuck him. He makes this known by pushing back when the man pushes forward. The low growl of appreciation makes John’s stomach twist.

 John cranes his neck to see when the man moves away and drops to his knees behind him. The bottom half of John’s uniform is removed quickly, pants coming with it, and he chokes on his own air when he feels his arse being spread apart.

 The man wastes no time in teasing him, now. His tongue runs wetly over his perineum to his arsehole, then swirls until he’s pushed it inside. John’s panting, now, and his prick is forming a wet spot on his shirt. He’s an utter wreck, but he can’t be arsed to care because _this man is brilliant_.

 He turns his head, his tongue slipping out a little—and John doesn’t whine, _he doesn’t_ —to allow more room for the finger now slipping inside John. Once it’s in and sufficiently wet, the man pulls his head away to watch. “You’ve got an eager arse, Doctor Watson. People will talk.”

 John brings his arm up to bite in lieu of a response. The finger is pressing so fucking deep inside him, he swears he can feel it to the tip of his cock. It moves back for momentary relief before pressing back in, and this time it slips deeper. John shudders. He does this a few times, pulling out and pushing in. Then the man’s tongue makes reappearance. He adds a decent amount of spit, and then he slides his finger back almost entirely. John understands when the tip of a second finger—also slicked with spit—presses in.

 He doesn’t even try to hide the moan this time. He’s spread open for this genius, two fingers in his arse…really, what did he have to hide now? It burns a little, but the man’s not unkind about the process. He takes his time and keeps using that glorious tongue of his to keep John wet. When he’s satisfied John’s stretched enough with the two fingers, he pulls them apart ever so slightly. John chokes, pressing back into his hand. “Fuck, fuck…” he pants. “Oh, god…”

 “Come and you’ll regret it.” the man says lowly. It’s not quite a growl, but it’s clearly an order, so John reaches down and squeezes. He’s clumsy about it, so it’s just a little too hard, which is good in that it causes his erection to wane ever-so-slightly. But then those fingers spread and he’s hard again.

 The third finger takes the longest and burns the most. He hisses a few times, and thinks he’s gone mad when he feels warm lips pressing soothingly into his skin. Eventually, though, even that finger begins to feel good. He’s slick and spread open and tired of waiting, so he cranes his neck and spits “Are you going to fuck me or not?”

 The fingers twist a bit inside him and his forehead clangs on the wall. “Behave, John, or I’ll be forced to make you.”

 “Yes— _hah, fuck_ —yes, sir.” John grinds out. He’s begun twisting those long fingers of his now. John’s on a breaking point, but he squeezes again and manages to hold off for just a bit longer.

 John hears faintly the sound of spitting and skin-on-skin. He shivers and gives a soft moan. The fingers are removed—slowly, carefully, and then John’s surrounded. The man lines himself up and presses in. John thinks it must be a miracle they’re as slick as they are, and then he thinks nothing at all because _holy fuck it feels good_. He opens his mouth to moan, or whimper, or scream… _something_ , but nothing comes out.

 The man turns his head and takes advantage of his open mouth, kissing him and sliding that filthy tongue into it. John does moan then, because he tastes himself and the man is now fully seated inside him. A few experimental thrusts and some extra spit and suddenly John’s getting fucked within an inch of his life. He pants and braces his hands on the walls, having to move them up when their movement makes them slip. The man’s fingers are leaving bruises on his hips, and he’s growling out the most deliciously obscene sentences John’s ever heard.

 “I’m going to come inside you,” the man grinds out. “Fuck, and you’ll love it, won’t you? You’ll walk back to your cabin with the feeling of me inside you and finger yourself all over again. You’ll use my come to do it, too. And for weeks after you wash me off, you’ll still remember how _wet_ you were with it.”

 “Unng, fuck, yes!” John moans. “Yes, god…”

 The man’s hips lose their rhythm for half a second, but John picks it up, pushing back onto him by himself. He moans, low and beautiful. “Yes, there’s a good boy. Fuck yourself on my cock. Remember what this feels like, John. Remember what it feels like to give yourself up to me, remember how much you love it.”

 John reaches back and grabs a handful of hair, pulling the man down and himself up. “Fu—god, _yes_. Yes!”

 “Come for me, John.” the man whispers now, arms wrapping entirely around him and pulling them flush together, leaving hardly any room for movement. Still, it’s enough, and John listens to the order, his orgasm slicing through his body and forcing out a scream.

 The man groans and presses him into the wall, still fucking him but more erratically. And then he stills and John can feel his cock throb inside him. He moans, his head and arse both pounding. He presses his forehead to the cool metal wall in front of him and lets himself shake.

 The man presses a soft kiss to his neck. John can’t help but chuckle. “I don’t even know your name.” he jokes, but his voice cracks.

 “Some call me John Harrison, some call me Khan…” John closes his eyes and shudders when the man licks up to his ear and then bites. “You’ll call me Sherlock.”

 


End file.
